Who is it
That lit the first flame,
On the darkest night,
Of our final day?

Who is it
That committed a heinous sin-
As the destruction of our humanity
Laid curse to all our kin.

What might become of us
As we walk blindly into darkness?

Will we redeem our begotten souls,
Or leave our redemption to the tales of old?

What burdens shall we carry?
How many millenniums will it take?
Will we succumb to our suffrage-
Or fulfill our forgotten fate?

They say it was long ago
That we crafted the glory of the gods
Stripped souls built their thrones
As we lay hollow, and broke

Dante traveled through the echelons of the afterlife
And returned with tragic tales of our irrefutable eternity
Whether we lay to waste in the River Styx
Or exist solemnly in our blissful ignorance

We conceived poetry, and literature
The likes of which the world had never seen
We told stories of prophets and fiends
All to detail our enigmatic intrigue


Unbeknownst to us we betrayed ourselves
Separate stories became separate beliefs
Bearing swords, we wrought bloodshed
Payment for prejudice, collected by grief

We led crusades, and jihads
As death of men reeked in the fields
Children were taught love, and affection
Years later, we sent them armed to the battlefields

Prophets practiced *******
Politicians purged families for power
The poor became mindless and meek
The covetous grew stronger,
as they overpowered the weak

The tales of our dreaded destiny disappeared
As our humanity crumbled before us
Our dilapidated divinity was lost to the ages
And heaven and hell, left quietly at a cusp

Perhaps we should pray, just one final time
And reach out to the heavens
For our humanity is dying...

Our beloved father, are’t thou still in heaven?
Might we still utter thy hallowed name?
Might thy kingdom come-
And your will be done?

The forsaken are many
And the gates of hell are unleashed
The oceans have turned to acid
And the earth crumbles beneath our feet

Will you forgive us our lord?
For the sins we have made?
Are we still redeemable?
Or will we succumb to the shade?

All remained quiet, for so long, we waited on his word
But the stories were stories,
and I suppose that’s all they really were.

tonight, my last night is calm and quaint
the crickets cry to the sound of moonlight
as the clear twilight sky begins to fade away
an hour from now the stars will die
and the world will be painted
in a brilliant array
like a Da Vinci painting
or a Mozart symphony
I cant help but remember the golden days
filled with chaos and fear
they bore beauty and triumph
and recollect as masterpieces
tenfold by every year
but the moment of living is different
it's not something we can understand
we only love the moment
once it has slipped our feeble hands
so this time I must capture it
before I commit to my sudden end
and prevent my last nostalgic moment
from torturing me
ever again

i sit in front on my grandfathers shop
where he collects and cuts his butchered meat
i patiently wait in the dusk of sunlight
soaking up the last droplets of summer heat
deep mountain woods grow with the darkness
as the scarlette sky turns to night
and the stars come out; and the crickets cry
i hold a rifle in my hand, but out of sight
my grandfathers cigarette smoke fills the air
cold steel laid softly, as i breath as little as i can
tomorrow i’ll be dreaming of this moment now
without any care, without any plans

Loneliness is an empty road
A thousand miles of the past behind you
And an infinite sea of nothingness ahead
Walking is the only choice you have
Backwards is your safest bet
But what if you go forward instead?
Loneliness is staying awake at night
Coming home to have nothing to do
Laying around the house
Wishing there was someone to talk to
Praying you might be invited
To spend a night out on the town
With all the friends from the past
But every time you check your phone
You’re just let down
Loneliness is being quiet for too long
Wishing you could open your mouth
To share the endless thoughts
To spill pure emotion from your lips
To explode with excitement in the best way
And to see the expression on the faces
Of people that care about what you’re saying
But there’s no one to say these things to
There’s no one to hear a word
It’s an endless isolation ahead of you
So for now, you go unheard

pain is death’s right hand man
a claw that digs into your skin
the death of a loved one
or even a friend
they lower them into the ground
and you know
you’ll never see them again
pain is crying all night
your heart tearing apart
wishing the sunlight
never shone on your heart
killing time in the park
writing poems about death
trying to understand her
with the taste
of a last cigarette on your breath
is god gonna save me?
will i fly up to the depths
of heavens gentle angels
or will i just disintegrate
becoming ash and dust
like the rest?

the coming of autumn leaves
as orange comes from green
and falls from the trees
to decompose on the frozen ground
the sound of a last breath
releasing its grip on life
that was kept for days too long
death is a cold woman
with her subtle gentle touch
you see it in the glazed over eyes
of the dead men in a battlefield
bleeding out into the earth

you don’t get back the love you gave
from the years spent in fruitless relationships
you don’t get the love back
from those you cared about most
after they die
you don’t get the love back
from those you failed, or gave up on
but somehow
you have to come up with the love
to try again
and to stay alive
love isn’t about what you get back
it’s about what you put in

humans are complex beings
they can talk,
they can make tools,
and they can do just about
whatever they want
but they are born into a world
of luxuries and disappointments

as a kid
a crack head broke in
to my single father’s house
he stole my xbox
most of our food
and sent my family
into a spiraling depression
the broken glass
reminded me of diamonds
ones that i wish i could give back
to my broken family

my chest is straining
from the pain pressing on my lungs
my heart is breaking
trying to replace lost love
my teeth are grinding
holding back the hate under my tongue
what’s left of my world is spinning
and i’m fading away
losing all that i had left
for love

you must write them on burning buildings
as screams and smoke fill the air
like a brilliant masterpiece of a Renaissance art
you must write poems
while your heart is breaking
and your tears soften the ink on the page
you must write poems while driving a car
As the excitement of avoiding a head on collision
floods your mind with adrenalin and excitement
you must write poems on mountaintops
swimming in the ocean or staring up at the night sky
you must write poems all the time
you must write poems while you die

a star
is the most beautiful way
to look at light
they almost call to you
and whisper tales of midnight
but i’ve been told
stars are holes
in the floor of heaven
angels can peek their eyes through
to see their long lost loved ones
and to caress their longing
for the longevity
of an ending life

vicarious emotions
felt through a man you’ll never meet
thousands of feelings
the likes of which you’ll never see
such awful pain and suffering
enough to ***** the life
from a newborn babe
conceived into poetry
my hope for you
is that you might be saved

there is only one thing
I hate about myself
that pale, calloused patch of skin
on my temple
where the skin is all but worn away
where I bury my hardest emotions
and hope they never
see the light of day

i like to think of a soul
as an ethereal blanket
born white, soft, and pure
like a baby’s blue eyes
but as life goes on we stain
dragged through the filth of the streets
and we blemish from the stresses
that, naturally, come with each day
and we tear, from heartbreak, and loss
but you can be cleansed
and sown together again
by watching the sun rise over the mountains
you can go to church and give yourself to god
but falling in love is my personal favorite
all things that create you, make you new
and in the end, the wears, the tears
the pains and the stains
make you
you

if you asked me to describe it
i’d say it’s like that lump in your throat
you get when you’re sad
that you can’t cough, swallow, or relieve
it’s name is suicide
and despite what the doctors say
i think it chokes you to death
the black smoke collects in your lungs
and the blankets and pillows smother you at night
until you panic, fighting to relive the attack
but you can’t. because it’s inside of you.
so you **** your self, to **** the pain
makes sense right?
it’s the only medication a doctor never prescribes
but that’s not the end of it
when the air is cleared from your lungs
and your chest sinks into the floor
all your loved ones begin to inhale the noxious fumes
they attract the massive black mass that fills the room
and they begin to die of the same disease that plagued you
and starts the process all over again
and they’ll have to fight, or become consumed

the world falls apart right before your eyes
time moves fast, and loved ones pass
until you've lost living to time
emotions move on like you're falling behind
while the love fades away, beautiful paintings become colorblind
and the people you once knew
become someone else
until you cant recognize anyone
not
even
you

you’ve walked this road for so long
you’re head strong, but your will’s weak
your knees begin to buckle
and you back starts to ache
the beginning is so far behind you
but death stands right beside your feet
please, just take another step
put your hand right here, for me
do you feel the heartbeat in your chest?
it means you’ve still got fight in you
so long as it still beats
the mountains tower above you
and anxiety lies within
depression fills the rain clouds
and you think back to where you’ve been
the sunny, grassy meadows
the forests, green and lush with life
now all you know is suffering
pain and sacrifice
but remember you are stronger
you’re the titan of this earth
and the world that wants to **** you
is the same one that gave you birth